


We Freely Love

by Unemployedelf



Series: An Angel Once [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale/Crowley is not the main thing in the fic its just there, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Crowley as Raphael, Footnotes, Other, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, bon appetit y'all, book canon and tv canon has been cooked together to make this, im using my past as an ex catholic and my art history degree to use, this was written purely for my entertainment but I thought others might like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unemployedelf/pseuds/Unemployedelf
Summary: First there was God.She then made five Archangels; Lucifer, Michael, Uriel, Raphael and Gabriel. For a moment, there was peace. And then there was Metatron, the Seraphim, Cherubs, and Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, and Principalities, and then all the other Angels, who were simply ‘Angels.’Raphael had looked around himself and said, “Huh, full house.”





	We Freely Love

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh yeah so I don't write, I usually make art for a fandom, but the teeth of the snake that is 'Crowley-was-Raphael' was bitten into my jugular and this was born.

“Do you ever wonder what happened to Raphael?”

They’re at the Ritz, eating dessert, and drinking. Crowley is having angel cake and Aziraphale is having Devil’s food cake. They’re both drinking wine.

Crowley very carefully doesn’t answer. “What brought this on?”

Aziraphale sighs, stealing a bite of Crowley’s cake. “Oh, well, with the whole Apocalypse nonsense, I sort of expected him to be involved with it.” Aziraphale gives a small smile. “A bit foolish, I’ll admit; no one has seen him since Eden, and no one has even  _ heard _ from him since, well, it must have been around 200-100 BC, surely.”

“Your lot don’t talk about him much, then?” Crowley mentally pats himself on the shoulder with how casual he sounds.

Aziraphale gives a wry smile. “We both know they're not ‘my lot’ anymore, my dear.” He takes a sip of his wine. “But no, they didn't. I’m not sure why, to be honest.”

______

First there was God. She then made five Archangels; Lucifer, Michael, Uriel, Raphael and Gabriel. For a moment, there was peace. And then there was Metatron, the Seraphim, Cherubs, and Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, and Principalities, and then all the other Angels, who were simply ‘Angels.’

Raphael had looked around himself and said, “Huh, full house.”

______

Lucifer had turned to Raphael, after they finished creating one of the nebulas. 

“Do you ever wonder why we’re the one to create these?”

Raphael tilted his head a bit. “What you mean?”

“If the Almighty is so powerful, why are we building the universe? Why didn’t She?”

Raphael was not standing on ground then, but floating in space, but he still shifted as though moving from one foot to the other. “Well, I mean. Hm.” and here he’ll look back upon, and think, ‘well, cocked that one up, didn’t I?’ “There must be a reason, right? I mean, She’s the Almighty. She wouldn't, I don't know, lead us astray, or something.”

Lucifer smiles. “Wouldn't She?”

______

Raphael watches Lilith leave the Garden of Eden, and frowns. The first question he ever asks the Almighty is, “Why did you allow her to suffer?”

______

He’s a snake, a great big thing, slithering and  _ crawling  _ around. He’s always liked snakes, so he supposes this isn’t to bad. He’s told to go Upside, to cause some trouble, but that can wait for later, he just wants to  _ see _ right now. And sees he does; he sees Adam and Eve, picking fruit from a bush, and he pauses. 

He turns bipedal, lets his wings out, and goes up to them. 

“Hey, you lot.” He greets, a smile on his face. Adam and Eve turn away from the fruit they were picking, and smilie back up at him.

“Hello,” Eve greets, friendly. “What is your name?”

“Raphael,” he answers, before pausing, wondering if he still gets that name, or if that is taken from him as well. 

“My name is Adam,” Adam introduces himself, unnecessarily.

“I am Eve,” she says, also unnecessarily, as she picks a strawberry, and hands it to Raphael. “Would you like to eat with us?”

Raphael’s smile widens, taking the strawberry. Yes, causing trouble can indeed wait. “Yeah, that’ll be nice.”

And so he sits with Adam and Eve, and answers their questions, some he himself had asked and got cast out for, and tells the story of the rebellion. The two humans sit with rapt attention. 

When Raphael turns away, hours later, he decides he very much likes Adam and Eve.

A week later he turns to Eve and says, “Hey, wanna try an apple?”

______

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” Raphael says, appearing next to the Angel on the wall. The Angel is nervous, but not unkind, and he talks with Raphael, if not in a distant sort of way.

“I can’t see what’s so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway.”

“Well, it must be bad…” and here the Angel pauses, and it takes Raphael a split second to realize that the Angel is prompting him for a name. 

Raphael doesn’t frown, but it’s a close thing. Does he look different, from Before? He hadn’t thought so. His hair is the same, his face as well, his wings were the same, if not neater. Really, the only thing that changed was his eyes, and the scales that were, well, scaling up his back, but the Angel can’t see those.

He supposes though, that this Angel hadn’t seen him before. He seems new, freshly made. This is probably his first Job. Poor chap.

But, wait, Heaven surely had spoken about his Fall? That’s not the type of thing you just don’t tell the other Angels about, right? That an Archangel Fell?

Raphael turns to the Angel next to him, opens his mouth to say,  _ ‘Raphael, Archangel.’  _ but he doesn’t, he can’t just  _ say _ that, what kind of person would he be to break the news of an Archangel’s Fall like this, to this newly made Angel with a nervous smile?

“Crawly,” he says instead, because well, that’s what he was, right? Crawling around, no longer an Angel, no longer an  _ Archangel _ , barely even a middle class demon.

“Crawly,” the Angel repeats, before moving the conversation along.

 

By the time the rain comes, and the Angel lifts his wing to cover him, Raphael _ \- Crawly- _ decides he rather likes this Angel as well. Quite a lot, in fact.

“I’m sorry,” he says, watching as Adam holds Eve’s hand, as they cook the lion on the Angel’s sword. “I don’t think I got your name.”

“Oh!” the Angel flusters. “Oh, I am so sorry, that was terribly rude of me. I’m Aziraphale.”

Crawly smiles warmly at the Angel, who smiles back, still a bit nervously, but also a tad bit friendlier. “Hello, Aziraphale.”

______

He heals Abraham from that nasty business, waiting until Michael and Gabriel to leave before doing so. Can’t have them finding out and telling Hell, no way.

“Thank you,” Abraham says. “What is your name?” And maybe it's because when Crawly looks into his eyes, he sees Eve’s eyes, because when Abraham asks that, Crawly answers, “Raphael,”

He immediately flies away in embarrassment.

______

Raphael always was a fan of a bit of mischief, and now that he’s Crawly, he supposes that he now has excuses for it. Mischief is more fun for mischief's sake, though, than for a job. He does the jobs Hell tells him to do, but he also, on slow days, decides, well, fuck that, just a little. 

He’ll do what he wants.

Frankly, that bit with Asmodeus was purely spite, in his case. Asmodeus owed him 25 pounds.*

Crawly doesn’t even get to introduce himself this time because Tobit turns to him, after all is said and done, smiles wide, and says, “You must be Raphael. God surely sent you down here to help me, oh, thank you so much.”

Crawly doesn't give a proper response, but instead says something along the lines of, “Ngk?” and moves the conversation far away from  _ that _ . He tried to appear human, how the Hell did he find out? Was it the eyes?

______

“C-Crawly?” 

Crawly looks up from his drink to see Aziraphale standing hesitantly a few steps from his  seat at the tavern counter. “Hello, Aziraphale.” Crawly smiles. He hadn’t seen Aziraphale since the Ark business. “What brings you to Nineveh?”

“Oh, well, I heard a rumour you see,” Azirphale smiles happily at Crawly, and sits down next to Crawly, leaning in close to whisper, which causes Crawly to feel flushed. “I've heard that the Archangel Raphael was here, performing Miracles!”

Crawly freezes, cup to lips. “Hmg?” He tries again. “Uh. Erm. Interesting.”

Aziraphale nods his head excitedly. “Oh, yes! I’ve, of course, never met him, he’s very mysterious, you know, hasn’t been seen since he created a few nebulas, never stays in the same place for long, only staying long enough to heal someone, but, I thought, well, what’s the harm in seeing if he’s still here?”

Crawly manages to swallow the rock thats in his throat, placing his cup down. “Did you see him?”

Aziraphale frowns, shaking his head mournfully. “No, I assume he left before I came. Oh, well.” Aziraphale looks back up, a small smile on his face.  “I like your glasses, by the way.”

Crawly’s stomach twists like snakes. “Thanks, angel.”

______

Beelzebub questioned him, once, about what she’s been hearing about Raphael doing healings. It seemed only the Royals in Hell knew or remembered who Raphael was .** Crawly supposes all the other demons tried to forget what Heaven was like, about who they were. Probably better that way. When Crawly is questioned, he simply shrugs and says, “Must be some low class Angel doing it.Heaven trying to hide the fact that half their Archangels fell, and all that.”

Beelzebub buys it, and doesn’t mention it again.

______

Jesus Christ was a nice young man; dirty and a bit feral, but kind and well spoken. Crawly liked him. He tried to show him the wonders of the world, and Jesus had smiles at him, seen him for what he truly is, and did not judge. A good lad.

As he watched Jesus get crucified, he frowns. His hands itch to help him. He doesn’t. 

______

Crowley suggests the Arrangement for three reasons. One, to see Aziraphale more. He’ll admit that easily enough, at least to himself. Two, he figures it’ll make his job easier. And three, he misses performing Heavenly Miracles, just a bit. It takes 500 years of suggestions and tempting Aziraphale before the Angel cracks.

When Crowley performs Aziraphale’s Miracle- a small healing of a sickly child- and his own Temptation- a woman now plans to steal from her husband and run away in luxury- Crowley thinks,  _ ‘Yeah, this seems right.’. _

______

Everytime there is a plague or an epidemic, Crowley gets drunk.

The year is 1350, and Crowley has been drinking steadily for at least a month and a half.

“Why!” He’s sobbing, draped over his bedroom chair. “Why do you do this?” In Crowley’s hands is an empty bottle of mead; when he realizes it is empty, he will throw it in the pile of other empty bottles. This is cause the glass to shatter; Crowley will not notice. 

“Why make me, you said I was to heal, you made me a healer, why make me and then do this?” He throws his arm out, as if to demonstrate. “Why let them suffer! I can’t heal them all! I’m not supposed to anymore! You made me to heal them and you turned your back on them- you turned your back on  _ us _ !- and I can’t heal them! I CAN’T HELP THEM!”

Crowley throws his arms around the chair, holding it for support, as sobs wreck his body.***

______

He doesn’t really like the painter Raphael. Bit of a twat. Leonardo was more his style, and Crowley liked going out drinking with him, when he could. When Leo was older, too old to go drinking, Crowley once said, offhandedly, how much he hates that they share a name. Leo looked at him strangely, and said, “Your name is Anthony, though.” Crowley waves his hand absently, and Leo drops it.

______

If one were to look into the backroom of the new bookshop in Soho, in the year 1800, they would see chocolates eaten, empty box on a desk, and two steadily drunk beings sprawled across furniture. 

Well. One being was sprawled across. The other was comfortably folded into himself, glass clutched in his hand.

“Do you remember Heaven, Crowley?” Aziraphel asked.

“Hard not to,” Crowley’s answer slips out his mouth without meaning to. He drinks more aggressively to make up for it. 

“You’re older than me,” Aziraphale said. “By...by a few.” His hands womble back and forth, in a way that he wants to showcase a passage of time that they both know didn’t exist yet. “You Fell before I was made.”

“Yes,” Crowley agreed, hesitantly. “Although my first assignment  _ was _ when we met, so there can’t be a great gap, that.”

Azirpahle hums, and tries to pour more wine in his glass. It spills a bit. “What was your name, then?” He takes a gulp of wine. ”Do you remember?”

Croawley’s throat burns like fire with the words he wants to say. 

_ I remember  _ everything. 

_ I remember Gabriel taking everything me, Michael, Lucifer, and Uriel said to heart. _

_ I remember creating stars and galaxies and nebulas, and the burst of warmth when God told me ‘ _ Good job, Raphael. _ ’  _

_ I remember when Adam and Lilith were made, and thinking how special they were, and when Eve came, thinking she was special too. _

_ I remember all the questions I wanted to ask the Almighty, and those I managed to, none of them answered.  _

“No,” Crowley says, and if the words unspoken burned like fire, than this lie burns like holy water. “Don’t remember anything from upstairs. All blurry.”

______

“I’d just like to say, if we don’t get out of this…I’ll have known, deep down inside, there was a spark of goodness in you.”  Aziraphale says.

“Nice knowing you.” Azirpahle says, holding out his hand to Crowley, who takes it carefully, fingers brushing knuckles before gripping tightly. 

There’s a million things Crowley wants to say. 

I love you, I’m sorry it turned out this way, I’m sorry I never told you, I’m sorry I never told you about my past, I hated every moment I lied to you, I wished we had more time. 

“Just remember that I’ll have known that, deep down inside, you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking.” He says instead.

______

“Your lot don’t talk about him much, then?” Crowley mentally pats himself on the back with how casual he sounds.

Aziraphale gives a wry smile. “We both know they're not ‘my lot’ anymore, my dear.” He takes a sip of his wine. “But no, they didn't. I’m not sure why, to be honest.”

Crowley shivers a bit. The world almost ended, what did he have to lose?

“Angel,” he says softly. “I think...I have something to tell you.”

* * *

 

*This is a lie. It’s true that Asmodeous would owe him money that would be the modern equivalent of 25 pounds, but the reason he helped Tobit because he seemed like a nice enough fellow, no need to live with all that despair and such, and really, causing Sarah all that sadness was a bit much.

  
**In a private moment Crowley would wonder if technically he should also be Hell Royalty. Maybe a Duke, or a Count or something. He banishes the ideal just as quickly as it comes, and orders another batch of Oysters for Aziraphale.

  
***This will repeat for other plagues, but also for inquisitions, and wars, and genocides.


End file.
